


Prying Eyes

by ijustwantedyoutoneedme



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Maggie spying on people, Minor Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee, Rickyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustwantedyoutoneedme/pseuds/ijustwantedyoutoneedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her daddy had always told her about how curiosity had killed the cat, and she had always followed his advice and steered clear of anything she was not directly concerned with – until now. No, this time, she just had to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prying Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> In which Maggie is curious and it pays off.  
> This was written as part of a drabble challenge with [Opium_du_Peuple](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Opium_du_Peuple/) ([acciosherlockinthetardis](http://acciosherlockinthetardis.tumblr.com) on tumblr) with the prompt "whiskey".  
> Anyway, I hope y'all like it and don't hesitate to ask questions if you have any :)

It was common knowledge that Daryl had a stash – booze, cigarettes, chocolate, candy, you name it. What wasn't as commonly known was exactly where Daryl kept that stash. They'd been looking alright, watching him like damn hawks whenever he came back to the prison with a bag heavier than usual, but they could never focus on him long enough to find out just where these goodies went – seeing as something always seemed to happen whenever he got back from a successful run, be it walkers at the fences or someone messing something up, somewhere in the cell blocks.

That's when Maggie started noticing a pattern. Whenever Daryl would step out of the car, Rick would be there, and there would be this nod between the two of them to make sure everything was alright, or a negative shake of the head on the hunter's part when it wasn't the case. But it wouldn't be the only sign between them. No, sometimes there would be  _something_ else, and even though Maggie was well aware of it, she couldn't quite put her finger on it – and it was starting to eat at her brain like a tumor.

Which is why she started paying more and more attention to the pair's body language, and started noticing things she hadn't before. It wasn't in Maggie's nature to spy on people – no, this was more of Glenn's thing, for the sake of gossipping – but she found herself starting to watch them more intently than she had originally planned to, even going as far as following them places and seeing things she soon found out she wasn't supposed to see, either.

The first thing she noticed was exactly how close the two would stand – always within arm's reach, if not less. Now this wasn't exactly uncommon for Rick, he had made it a habit of being up close and personal with the people he loved – with family, friends, even her and Glenn, too – but Daryl wasn't like that at all. Even with people she knew him to be close with, he kept his distance. Sure, he was open to conversation and was even friendly sometimes, but nothing like the way he was with Rick.

Then there were the sly glances, which weren't exactly easy to see at first, but they were definitely there. They weren't obvious at all, just these little looks thrown each other's way every now and then, yet there would always be this sort of sheen over their eyes, like they were glinting or  _something._ It got easier to spot them over time, especially now that Maggie had seen them turn into flat out stares when they thought no one was looking – and really no one was, except for her – and if Maggie thought she had seen longing in their eyes then, turns out she hadn't seen anything yet.

Things took a turn for the interesting when Maggie started focusing more on the gestures between the two men. She didn't think she'd find anything there since she hadn't really noticed anything before today, but boy was she wrong. Everything was in the little taps, the quiet brushes of fingers over arms, the lingering touches along necks and shoulders – every last bit of information she was desperately trying to find without knowing it was right there, in front of her eyes the whole damn time.

They weren't obvious about it at all, more careful than anything really. They made it so no one would see it at first or maybe even second glance, but it became clear to Maggie that their relationship went deeper than mere friendship, simple brotherly love. The contact between them appeared brief, but it was never hurried, never rushed. They always took the time to let their talks, gazes and touches linger, just a little more than normal. It was so subtle and barely there that at first, Maggie thought she was hallucinating it all. But it wasn't long before she found proof that there was definitely _something_  there.

 

* * *

 

Maggie wasn't the kind of girl who liked to spy on people, as was cleared before. But in this case, she couldn't help it, which was why she found herself down in the tombs, approaching the boiler room as quietly as she could after having followed Rick and Daryl there. She wasn't exactly spying on them, either, more like investigating. She was making research – strategic research to find out where Daryl was hiding his treasures and, more importantly, find out just what the fuck was going on between them.

Her daddy had always told her about how curiosity had killed the cat, and she had always followed his advice and steered clear of anything she was not directly concerned with – until now. No, this time, she just had to know. She had too many questions and needed too many answers, and she was growing wearier of it by the second. It wasn't like she was going to talk to anyone about it, either. No, this was first and foremost something she had to do for herself, because she needed it – she needed to know. She wasn't going to lie about it if Glenn asked, but she doubted he would even believe her if she told him. She was already having a hard time believing it herself, anyway.

Which is why she barely contained the gasp that threatened to leave her lips when she finally got a visual of what Rick and Daryl were up to. She looked away the second she had seen anything, almost like the sight had burnt her, her back hitting the wall with a soft thud that unfortunately didn't go unnoticed by the two men. Daryl was at the door not even three seconds later, and Maggie thanked God – if he was really up there anymore – for giving her reflexes because in those three seconds, she had managed to get her back off the wall and taken a stance suggesting she had just arrived at the door.

“Maggie? What're ya doing here?” Daryl asked, his brows knitted together in suspicion as he looked her over, studying her body language to figure out if she had seen anything.

“Hey, Daryl. I was just looking for Rick, is he in there?” She feigned not knowing, a clueless look on her face complimenting her friendly smile, hoping that her lying skills were enough to fool the Dixon.

“Yeah, he's here alright. Watcha need?” The hunter seemed convinced enough for now, an eyebrow still quirked in silent interrogation, his gaze unwavering as he waited on her answer to find out if she was telling the truth or not.

“I just wanted to see if he was up for watch tonight, or if he'd like me to take a double shift so he could spend time with Judy.” She threw a smile Daryl's way, a sympathetic look making her eyes sparkle the second Rick came out of the room to assure her that he was alright with being on watch tonight, and that she could take the time to rest and spend it with her husband instead of exhausting herself on his behalf, a hand coming up to rest on her shoulder as he said so.

Maggie nodded before walking away, but not without noticing the look of relief they both shared the second she turned on her heels. By the time she had reached the cell block door, her mind was reeling. She had barely seen anything, too afraid to get caught spying, but she had definitely seen  _something._

She wasn't a hundred percent sure of what she saw exactly – but Maggie knew she had to be right, especially with how Daryl had been sitting on a workbench and Rick had been standing right there between his legs, leaning in for what, by the looks of it, had to be a kiss. Not the kind you'd give your brother, either. The kind she'd give Glenn whenever they had a second to themselves in the dark. The kind you'd give someone you loved.

 

* * *

 

Night fell upon the prison soon enough, everyone gathering inside after dinner in order to join the comfort of their own cells and fight off the chill of the early Georgian fall. The cell block was silent save for a few people talking about their day and Beth humming softly as she wrote about her own in the diary Daryl had found for her on a run a few months ago. Rick and him were nowhere to be seen, which was normal in Rick's case since he had taken his shift up in the guard tower a little over three hours ago, but the hunter should have settled in his cell by now.

Maggie had about half an hour before she had to go relieve Rick of his duty but she had the feeling that if she went up there now, she might be able to witness _something_  she had been searching for for a while now. She tried brushing it off, thinking maybe she wasn't supposed to figure this out after all, maybe she should leave them be without probing at what they had, but the feeling was nagging at her so much she couldn't help lifting herself up and off the bed, planting a soft kiss on her husband's lips and walking out without a word, heading to the guard tower with determination flaming in her eyes.

If Maggie had learned one thing over the years, it was definitely that sneaking up on Daryl Dixon was near impossible. Glenn had learned it the hard way when he was tracking him in order to find where the hunter had buried his treasures, earning a few bruises in the process. Sneaking up on him wasn't only hard because the man had the sense of hearing of a feral cat, but also because he had the temper of one and especially because, like felines and most predators, he did not like to be followed.

Lucky for her, Maggie had successfully taught herself how to muffle any sound she might make and had gotten quieter and quieter over time. This skill was definitely coming in handy now that she found herself climbing up the stairs to the top of the guard tower Rick was holed up in, making sure her padding was as soft as a mouse's as she trotted up, her senses alert. She came to a complete stop underneath the trap door, her keen ears detecting sounds from above her head.

She narrowed down the sounds to two dinstinct types : voices – who definitely belonged to the pair she had been spying on for months now – and clatter. From what she could hear, the two seemed to be in a cheerful mood, laughter filling the air from time to time, almost in total synchronization with the rattle of what sounded like bottles rolling on the floor above. Maggie's brows knitted together as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing, to no avail.

Then it hit her. Rick and Daryl were drinking. If she hadn't been so bent on finding out what was really happening she would have felt offended by the fact that they didn't share any with the others, but in that moment her need to satisfy her curiosity was greater than the one she had to scold the pair. Which is what prompted her to gather all the courage left in her and to carefully lift the trap door blocking her view, praying to God it wouldn't squeak like it usually did when one needed to be discreet.

And it didn't. Not a sound. Nothing. She almost cheered at the lack of noise but thankfully refrained herself from doing so, finally getting a visual of the situation at hand. Rick and Daryl were both sitting on the floor, their backs to the wall and their sides pressed close together, long legs sprawled beneath them, kicking at empty cans, and palms full with either a bottle of what Maggie made out to be whiskey, or tightly clasping the other's hand. Laughter was written all over their faces and a deep flush was creeping down their necks and beneath the collars of their shirts, revealing their inebriated state.

Right then and there, they looked ten years younger than they actually were. Or more accurately, a decade younger than the past two years had aged them. It suddenly became apparent to Maggie just how much of a toll the last couple years had taken over the two men. Hell, she couldn't blame them, they were the ones shouldering everything at all times, after all. She felt a pang of guilt at the realization – they sacrificed so much for the well being of others, and here she was contemplating scolding them for foregoing to share Daryl's findings with the rest of them not five minutes earlier.

She took in the sight before her eyes with a quiet breath, her eyes lingering on the way their fingers intertwined, the older man's thumb absentmindedly drawing circles on the back of Daryl's hand, the latter's head slowly coming to a rest on the other's shoulder. The sounds of their laughter subsided in favor of a comfortable silence as Rick took a small gulp of the amber liquor, setting the bottle down to his right before dipping his head to search the hunter's eyes.

There was a look between the two as the leader leaned in, full of longing and _something else_  that Maggie would later describe as love, Daryl's face turning upwards to meet Rick's lips halfway for a gentle, almost too chaste kiss. The simplicity of the touch brought a smile to the younger man's mouth, quirking up the corners in a fashion Maggie realized she was but too familiar with.

And that's when she finally got it. Whenever Daryl would find booze, he wouldn't give Rick a special look or a tactical sign. No, he would give him a smile pulled straight out of a fairy tale.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @[richardsdaryl](http://richarsdaryl.tumblr.com)


End file.
